


Three Times Llarimar Almost Lost His Job (and One Time He Didn't)

by misura



Category: Warbreaker - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-22 05:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16591676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Llarimar and Lightsong and job satisfaction. (pre-canon)





	Three Times Llarimar Almost Lost His Job (and One Time He Didn't)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizmo/gifts).



.01

Llarimar was annoyed and angry and unhappy. Part of him realized that those weren't good things to be feeling when his brother had invited him to go drinking, to celebrate his promotion. Right now, though, it was hard to remember why.

"Kindwinds the Honest!" a voice said. "Ha! More like Kindwinds the _Dis_ honest! Kindwinds the Liar!"

With some vague surprise, Llarimar realized the voice had been his own. He also realized that as a priest, he probably shouldn't be saying such things in public, even if they were true.

"So quit," his brother said. Stennimar always made everything sound easy. Simple. When Llarimar had become a priest, Stennimar had been happy for him. If Llarimar now decided to change jobs, Llarimar knew that Stennimar would be just as supportive. "Do something else. You're smart, and you're not that old yet. Plenty of time to make a career change."

Llarimar shook his head. He'd studied for years to become a priest. To throw all of that away - it was unthinkable. Impossible. "We need the money." Studying wasn't cheap. Nor were weddings, houses or furniture. It all added up.

"I could - " Stennimar said, as Llarimar should have known he would.

Llarimar shook his head again. "No. I'm just - I'm drunk. I don't know what I'm saying. You shouldn't pay any attention to me."

Stennimar gave him a sharp look. He'd been matching Llarimar drink for drink, yet he seemed much more sober. Llarimar supposed Stennimar'd had a lot more practice.

"I will remember you said that." Stennimar grinned.

Llarimar tried to scowl. Instead, he found himself grinning back, a bit wryly, but somehow happier than he'd been before. So what if he hated his job? He had his brother, his wife, and soon, he'd also have a child. There was more to life than work.

 

.02

"This is all your fault."

Stennimar blinked. Thus far, he'd appeared to view being thrown into jail as an adventure or, at worst, an incovenience. " _My_ fault?"

"You talked me into breaking into that warehouse!" Llarimar wondered what would happen to him if anyone of his fellow priests found out that he'd been arrested. Would he lose his job?

He imagined being summoned by Kindwinds, being told that he had proven himself unworthy of serving a God. Imagined at last telling Kindwinds exactly what Llarimar thought of him.

Of course, it was nothing but a fantasy. In reality, Kindwinds was unlikely to even talk to him. Perhaps his highpriest would. Perhaps not even that.

"Well, I needed a second pair of hands, and it had to be someone I trusted." Stennimar's tone suggested that this was only reasonable. "You volunteered."

As Llarimar remembered it, what he'd said had been more along the lines of, _"You're a scribe! What makes you think that you would even be able to pick a lock, or get past the guards, or find anything useful?"_ Somehow, that had turned into Llarimar accompanying Stennimar on his less-than-legal investigation.

To be fair, they had almost gotten away with it. Almost. It had just been bad luck that someone had noticed them on their way out, and called the city watch, and now here they were.

"I did tell you to scoot the moment we got inside, didn't I?" Stennimar yawned. "It's not my fault that you didn't listen, any more than it's my fault that we got caught. It was just bad luck."

Llarimar had been thinking the exact same thing himself, yet somehow, to hear Stennimar say it annoyed him. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, I don't think my lock-picking skills are up to breaking us out, so I guess there's nothing to do but wait. Maybe take a nap. I suppose that, as a priest, you might pray."

Llarimar didn't want to imagine all the things that could have happened if Stennimar _had_ tried to break them out of jail. "What's the point in praying to people who lie and cheat and do nothing at all useful all day?"

"I'm sure I don't know." Stennimar shrugged. "That's what you studied theology for, isn't it? To answer tricky questions like that?"

Llarimar said nothing. The idea of losing his job should feel like a relief, but somehow, it did not.

 

.03

"Catch."

Llarimar reached out his hand, too late to do any good. A lemon dropped on the floor.

Stennimar tsk'ed. "Clumsy. Though I suppose that if you'd seen me two weeks ago, you'd have been able to tell me the same thing, which means it's as well you didn't."

_Has it really been that long?_ "What are you doing?"

Stennimar made an expansive gesture. "What does it look like I'm doing? Work! Nothing but work. You might say I've been grounded. Imprisoned, even, though at least the food's good, and of course I'm allowed to go home at the end of the day, so it's nothing at all like being in jail after all. It does sound rather dramatic, though, don't you think?"

"I thought you liked your work." Llarimar noted several more lemons lying around, though their purpose escaped him.

"I do. That's why I haven't quit." Stennimar shrugged. "So much for my fantasies of being a detective, I suppose. The scourge of the criminal underworld. The savior of damsels in distress - well, and anyone else in need of rescuing. One shouldn't be too picky, after all."

Llarimar cleared a few papers off a chair and sat down. "I thought we might go sailing this weekend. If you're free."

"I always have time for my favorite niece." Stennimar smiled. "And my favorite brother, naturally."

"I'm your only brother," Llarimar pointed out.

"True, but I wouldn't dream of holding that against you."

Llarimar hesitated. Stennimar was in a good mood. He didn't want to spoil that. Besides, whatever the other priests of Kindwinds decided, there would be nothing Stennimar or anyone else would be able to do about it.

"I wonder if you wouldn't be happier not being a priest," Stennimar said. "What do you think?"

Llarimar hesitated. "At this point, it's not really my decision anymore." He'd been happy enough, as a student. Even his first few weeks in the court hadn't been so bad.

Disappointment had set in only gradually, as he saw more and more proof that Kindwinds the Honest was anything but. He'd tried telling himself that one rotten apple didn't mean anything, that the rest of the gods weren't like Kindwinds. Sometimes, he almost believed himself.

"A bit of sailing sounds great." Stennimar stood. "Let me find you some money, to pay for renting a boat and provisions and the like. I insist."

Llarimar sighed. It was an old argument. "Very well. I'll buy some wine."

"Excellent. We can drink to our safe return."

 

.01

"Well." Lightsong stared at him without the slightest spark of recognition.

Llarimar told himself that he had no right to feel disappointed. Nobody Returned with any memories of their past lives. Standing before him was not his brother, but his god. Provided Llarimar could convince him that he would make Lightsong a good servant.

"You sure come very highly - what's the opposite of 'recommended'?" Lightsong frowned.

"I got into some trouble," Llarimar admitted.

"Really? You look like such a nice, steady fellow. A bit boring, even. I guess there must be more to you than meets the eye then. Great. You're hired."

Llarimar swallowed. "Don't you want to know what sort of trouble I got into, Your Grace?"

"And ruin the mystery? Don't be silly."


End file.
